Saving Michael Jackson

Bye,bye Alfred

The warmth of the bathroom had disappeared long ago. Even though the lights above the mirror still glowed softly against the pale walls, the whole room suddenly felt colder, smaller somehow, as if the air itself had become too heavy to breathe. 

,,Hey, hey... Don't be afraid of me, it's okay"  he stroked my cheek

I look away, my chest tightening so hard it feels difficult to breathe. The cold bathroom air suddenly feels too heavy, too suffocating. Then I feel his hand on my stomach. I freeze. Before I can even process it, his hand moves lower, and panic rushes through me so fast it makes my whole body go cold. My breath catches in my throat. I try to move away, but there's nowhere to go. The sink presses painfully against my lower back, trapping me in place. I grab his wrist with shaky hands, trying to push him away, but it barely does anything. He's stronger than me. The realization alone makes my stomach twist.

My face burns with humiliation so sharp it almost hurts. I have never been this embarrassed in my life. My eyes sting, tears gathering faster than I can stop them, and deep down, horrifyingly, I already know where this is heading. I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I ignored him. Avoided him. Barely even looked his way. Somehow, he still got the wrong idea, and now I'm standing here feeling smaller than I ever have before. Then suddenly—
The bathroom door swings open. The sound makes both of us flinch. Alfred immediately steps away from me.

I quickly wipe at my face, my breathing uneven as I look toward the door and see Wanda standing there, confusion written all over her face. Her eyes flick between us, suspicious, trying to piece everything together. Her dress has a huge red stain spread across the front.

"What the...?" she says slowly, staring at Alfred before looking at me.

"I thought I heard her crying in here, so—" Alfred says quickly, stepping slightly in front of me like he's trying to control the situation.

"Okay?" Wanda cuts him off, crossing her arms.
"I'm here now, so you can get out." She steps aside for him to leave.

For a second, Alfred hesitates. Then he walks out.
The moment the door shuts behind him, the air changes. Wanda immediately comes toward me, her expression shifting from confusion to concern.

"What the hell happened here, Cece?" she asks, her voice softer now, worried.

I look down instantly, wiping at my cheeks before more tears can fall. My throat burns.

"Do not tell—" I sniff hard, my voice breaking. "Michael."

Her expression changes immediately.

"Michael?" she repeats, tightening her lips. Anger flashes across her face so fast it almost startles me. "The hell with telling Michael. You always say that, but this?" Her voice rises. "What just happened here? That's not okay, and definitely not something to hide."

"Lower your voice, Wanda," I whisper quickly, fear crawling back into my chest. My eyes dart nervously toward the door. "What if they hear us?"

She lets out an irritated breath and shakes her head.

,,Stop being so naive" she goes to the sink and cleans her dress "Stop being so naive."

She walks to the sink and starts trying to clean the red stain from her dress, rubbing water into the fabric aggressively.

"I'm not," I mumble quietly, even though my voice sounds weak—even to me.

"Oh, when Michael hears about this..." she mutters, scrubbing harder. "Alfred is dead, I'm telling ya." She lets out a short laugh, but there's anger underneath it. Real anger. And somehow, standing there with shaky hands and swollen eyes, I finally feel something besides fear. I'm not alone.